


center of desire

by stilinscry



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Fantasizing, Gun Oil as Lube, Lickers, Masturbation, Monsters, Other, Oviposition, Resident Evil 2, Sex Pollen, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 10:40:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17599754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stilinscry/pseuds/stilinscry
Summary: whilst resting in a safe room, leon gets hit with a gas that blanks his mind and fills him with a raw, carnal desperation, strong and unlike anything he's ever felt before





	center of desire

**Author's Note:**

> this is gross lmao. but i want leon, my sweet sweet baby, to get some good fucc and really, it should be expected that if i like scary videogames that i'm gonna be a monster fucker
> 
> also imagine all the umbrella agents sat laughing bc they released this weird sex gas, bc why not fuck with the few remaining survivors eh?
> 
> title is a song from the remake's soundtrack

leon still didn’t understand what had happened. 

everything had been such a blur; turning up to raccoon city for his first day only to find the city overrun with what can only be called zombies, looking like they’d been pulled straight out of one of those shitty late night movies they show on syfy. finding the station empty of any real help had only worsened the situation. of course there was lieutenant branagh, but with a big chunk missing from his torso and a resolve that was weakening by the second, he definitely didn’t count as the help that leon so desperately required. not when the station was spitting out more zombies than his dwindling ammo stock could deal with. 

and then there were the lickers. fuck those things. 

he’d barely just managed to make it into one of the safe rooms near the back of the station, in an area that the monsters seem not to stray into, when the air gets thick and the stench hits him hard enough to have him staggering, just barely catching himself on the doorframe. 

it’s sweet, sickly, like burning sugar and leon can’t get away from it. it’s burning in his nose, making his eyes water and as he pushes himself further into the room, it feels like his limbs are heavy, body suddenly much denser that it had been before. 

somehow he makes it into the adjoining room, practically collapsing onto the bottom of one of the bunk beds and he sits there for minutes, hours, he doesn’t know, simply just trying to breathe, hoping that whatever this is will pass and he’ll be able to keep going.

except it doesn’t pass. if anything, it only gets worse, to the point where it feels like the cloyingly sweet smell is overtaking him, controlling him. he lays back on the bed with the aim of relieving some of the stress in his body, the stiffness that’s overtaken his joints but when his head hits the pillow something akin to pleasure rushes through him, not the relief he’d been expecting. his whole body feels sensitive, like there’s a fire burning underneath his skin and the scratchiness of the cheap pillow feels both good and horrible as he nuzzles against it. 

but leon can’t stop to even consider why, not when another wave of pleasure passes through him, and suddenly the only thought rushing through his mind is that he _needs_ to get his clothes off. 

_ right now.  _

his hands scramble to pull off his rpd vest, fingers uncoordinated and hurried, barely managing to keep up with the pace that leon has set for himself. next comes his hip belt, and then his shirt. at the back of his mind, a small voice, possibly the last of his remaining control, is screaming that this isn’t normal, that something is desperately wrong, but then his hands are pulling his undershirt over his head too, throwing his elbow pads onto the floor and that thought is lost amongst the swirling in his mind as pleasure overtakes him again. 

skin against skin feels like fucking ecstasy, even the brushing of his fingers against his stomach as he hurries to unbutton his trousers has him keening, breath high and whiny. 

once his boots are kicked off, trousers, kneepads and thigh holster all dumped in a pile next to the bed, he stutters, almost unknowing of what to do next. as if waiting for his next orders. 

he doesn’t have to wait long for them. the air seemingly gets thicker, and leon’s body lurches. chest heaving as he breathes out. he ends up pressed face down on the bed, and only then does he realise how hard he actually is, as his dick presses against the mattress, rubbing against the front of his boxers. the friction is delicious, and leon, mind clouded, does the only thing he can think of and he starts grinding down against the mattress, head pressed firm against the pillow and his hands clutching at either side of it. 

it’s good, so fucking good, but it’s not enough. it’s not even close and leon whines, wishes desperately for someone or something to make him feel even better. he doesn’t know what, doesn’t give a flying fuck at this point. he just wants to get off, wants to fuck. or be fucked. 

his mind latches onto that thought then, the idea of being fucked right here, of someone stretching him out on their cock whilst zombies roam in the same fucking building, and it’s so insanely hot to him that it has his body seizing up, hands clenching tight enough at the pillow to rip the cheap fabric as he comes, spilling right inside his boxer shorts. there’s no relief that washes over him after his orgasm, no high, nothing. the arousal just persists, his mind still craving the absolute base desires, dick still hard as a rock. 

and it should be worrying, concerning, that some gas, or whatever it was that was pumped into the building, has got leon this frantic, but even the small amount of control he had retained before is gone. he’s lost himself to the pleasure, given himself over to it, and he wants and wants and wants. 

and then the thought hits him like a fucking freight train. the lickers. it’s an apt name for them given the appendage constantly hanging from their mouths. an appendage that, despite the glaring threat it presents in reality, leon wants to feel. he wants to rut against it as it spreads him wide open, slicks him up and leaves him completely and entirely fucked out. 

it’s overwhelming, the though of being split apart on the monsters tongue and god, leon wants it. badly. he moans, loud, too loud considering the situation, but it’s safe to say that safety really is the furthest thought from leon’s mind right now. instead, he thinks about the monsters hands, large, slick with slime and blood, and he thinks about them spreading his ass; thinks about them cupping his cheeks and pulling them apart, baring his hole before fucking into him with it’s beastly tongue and leon scrambles to his feet, whole body shaking, because he needs something, anything in him right this second. 

he roots through his thigh holster, and then his hip pouch, and he swears he could cry when he feels his fingers close around the small tin of gun oil he’d picked up in the weapons locker earlier on. he then discards the puch again, dropping it behind his feet before climbing back onto the bed and finally, finally, taking off his boxers. the gun oil is next to him on the bed, resting against his thigh, a constant reminder that soon he’ll be filled. 

in his frenzy, it doesn’t take leon long to get into a position he deems okay. comfort really isn’t at the top of his list right now, and so he settles on returning to how he was before, face down, cheek pressed against the pillow except now with his ass pushed up into the air. after hours of fighting and running, his back protests, and his arm aches as he reaches it backwards, but his fingers feel fucking heavenly as they move between his cheeks, shaking as they press over his puckered hole. his dick jolts at the touch, more pre come oozing from the tip and leon doesn’t wait a second longer to open up the tin. 

the oil squelches as he scoops out a chunk, oozing between his fingers and leon shivers, dropping the tin back onto the bed next to him before moving his hand back again and pushing two fingers in straight away. it burns, his whole body burns but it feels so fucking _good_ , the stretch is delicious and when leon imagines that it’s the licker’s tongue instead of his fingers, he comes so hard he blacks out for a couple of seconds. 

his fingers keep moving though; leon doesn’t think he could stop fucking himself for anything at this point and he pulls a third and fourth orgasm out of himself in quick succession. it doesn’t sate him though. his body is still burning from desperation, though he does feel his mind clear a little. his chest is still heaving from exertion, but it gets easier to breathe and he sits up, just letting himself think for a moment. it’s a breath of fresh air, and leon appreciates it, no matter how long it may last. 

the bed squeaks as he settles himself back against the wall, but he pays it no mind, instead trying to process the mess he’s currently in. zombies were one thing, but the weird gas that had led him to… well, jerking off whilst thinking about one of the very monsters that was trying to kill him, that some was something else entirely. yet another thing leon had considered impossible before he’d set foot in raccoon city. 

and he knows that he should feel disgusted, but even now, as the arousal hums low under his skin, present and still wanting, but not as overpowering as it had been before, leon feels his dick twitch at traitourous thoughts of lickers overpowering him, weighing him down and using him for their own pleasure. if they even felt pleasure. 

before he really knows what he’s doing, his hand is circling the base of his cock, squeezing for a moment before starting to move and leon’s eyes flutter shut as he lets his imagination go wild again. 

he wonders what their tongues would feel like on his skin. would they be smooth, wet, or would they be harsh? would they scrape across his skin much like a cat’s would? and if they were rough, god, how would that feel licking across his neck, his chest, his nipples? 

how would it feel as their teeth scrape across his chest, tongue wrapping around his cock like a sleeve and jerking him off? maybe they wouldn’t even jerk him off, maybe he’d be forced to get himself off, to fuck up into the tight heat of the coiled tongue. leon keens at that thought, needy, wanton, and his head tips back against the wall as his body arches into his hand, lasting only a few more seconds before he’s coming again. the heat is back though, body feverish and his mind keeps going, providing image after image of leon sandwiched between lickers and his hand picks up again, using his own come as slick. 

he imagines a licker between his legs, fucking him so deep on his tongue that it stretches into his stomach, pushing the skin out in an obscene way, and then two more above him. one with their tongue coiled around his dick and the other with their tongue pressed around his throat, one of it’s hefty paws holding him down against the bed, to stop him from running away. not that leon would try. 

would they want to _breed_ him? are they even capable of that?

does it even matter? 

leon imagines his stomach bulging again, not from the tongue but from the young the monsters would plant inside him. he thinks about how it would feel as they push their eggs inside of him, using his body solely for their own purposes, to reproduce, to spread. it’s disgusting, the thought of his stomach pulsing, stretching as they grow, as they try to break free, and leon must be sick because he fucking loves it. 

this time around his orgasm hits him hard to enough to knock him out. 

when he comes to he’s not sure how long he’s been out, but his body aches like he’s just run a marathon and back, muscles aching even as he rolls himself over to lay on his back. with no windows in the room, and no access to the time inside the safe room, his phone long dead, leon resigns himself to finding out the time whenever he can drag himself back out into the station. for now though, he lets himself relax. something he definitely hadn’t considered a possibility in this mess. 

he also uses the time to think, to go over what the fuck happened to him and leon’s relief is palpable when he realises that for the first time since the gas had hit him earlier, his dick is no longer hard. his body isn’t feverish either, and this time when he rubs his cheek against the scratchy pillow all he feels is discomfort, and not the weird, frantic pleasure he’d felt earlier. 

his mind is clearer too, back to usual business he guesses and it’s weird, to be able to choose what he thinks about again. to not be entirely consumed with pure, wanton need. it’s also weird that the wave of shame he’s expecting doesn’t hit. not even as he runs over the pure filth that he got himself off to. 

he waits, and waits, and yet as time passes and he finally feels strong enough to sit up on the bed, he still doesn’t feel grossed out. like at all. it’s concerning and leon feels like he needs a long sit down with himself, to figure some stuff out about himself.  that’ll have to wait though, because if he’s back to good form then that means leon needs to get back to pushing his way through the station. he only needs to find one more medallion and then finally, he can get down into the underground passage. he can’t imagine what fun stuff awaits him down there, but that’s definitely a problem for his future self, and not something he wants to dwell on right now. 

instead he focuses on regathering his gear, and dressing himself. 

and as he finally leaves the safe room, geared up and ready for more horrors, if he allows himself one last dip into his fantasies from before then it’s fine right? 

leon thinks so. 

**Author's Note:**

> if u got this far im proud of u bc either ur as gross as me OR ur not but u had the dedication to finish the fic anyways


End file.
